


Frenemies with benefits

by Roddas



Category: Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-18
Updated: 2016-01-18
Packaged: 2018-05-14 16:40:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 534
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5750500
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Roddas/pseuds/Roddas
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Trepan loves it when things go in his favor<br/>For Anna :3c</p>
            </blockquote>





	Frenemies with benefits

Oh poor Trepan.

That what the Autobots said.

Taken by one of the most fearsome decepticons ever to stalk the surface of cybertronian. Surely he had been handed a fate worse than death by a cruel ,merciless, captor. Surely he eagerly awaited the cold embrace of death. Poor Tumbler, sick with guilt over his helplessness when the kidnapping occurred. Determined, to find and rescue his mentor. Poor Zeta Prime, worried over his precious mnemosurgon, worried what secrets he would spill. What sick truths he would hand to the decepticons under the pain of torture. What would happen to him if the Autobots ever heard these truths.

Those poor Autobots, it made Trepan laugh whenever he thought about it.

Sure the kidnapping, as it were, had been pretty shocking at the time. A great deal of raised voices and demands had followed, but once it had been made clear that Overlord’s intentions were and what he wanted from Trepan, things had, surprisingly, smoothed over quite quickly.

It was a situation which Trepan benefitted from. Which were his favorite kind really.

He had been able to quickly figure out the kind of bot overlord was, not that it was hard. Overlord was impulsive to a tee. But he would develop tunnel vision when he saw something or some goal he wanted .And he wanted Trepan’s skills, and Trepan.

What followed was the best accommodations Trepan had ever had the pleasure to receive. Zeta had been resistant to trepans more, frivolous demands. With overlord, Trepan had only to hint he might want something, and there Overlord, ensuring Trepan got everything he wanted, so that he could get everything he wanted from Trepan. Trepan was more than happy to reciprocate in mnemosurgery lessons.

And in other ways.

Ways like being bent over berth and having his valve pounded like the universe was ending. Even if it did, neither of them would’ve heard a thing over the clanging. Or the yelling.

Overlord gripping his waist and aft, thrusting inside him. Trepan’s abdominal plating bulging slightly over the sheer girth of Overlords spike. Back struts arching, Trepan would claw and gouge Overlords plating, moaning with abandon until his cried turned to static shrieks of overload. He would grind deeper into that impossibly large spike, trying to coax it somehow deeper. Those plush pout lips would meet his own, and they tasted each others glossa, Trepan teasingly biting those perfect lips, his hardest nips hardly leaving a scratch on the surface.

It was a very mutual exchange.

Sometimes Overlord would rut Trepan like a turbofox, fast hard and needy, oh so needy and possessively. The phase sixer also had a lovely knot mod that they were gradually working into Trepans willing valve. That still had a few more attempts ahead of it before it was overcome.

And Trepan was overcome. Overcome with the feeling of being adored, in Overlord’s brutish, tactless way. Sure they still shared many lessons, many of their patients , guileless and uselessly heroic autobots thinking they were rescuing a helpless surgeon, only to be delivered quivering in chains to a purring and content Trepan, ready to start the latest lesson for that day.

Really.

Those poor, poor Autobots.


End file.
